Prejudice Seas
by Mocking Verse
Summary: "I'm sorry? What made you think I'd have a conversation with you?" her voice was sharp as she cocked her head to the side at him, a crooked grin appearing as her friends chuckled behind her, one boy throwing an arm around her slight frame. Finnick pursed his lips together, "Must be your alluring demeanor." Finnick/OC AU.
1. Prologue

**So hi to everyone who clicked on this story and a big thank you to you all! For all of you who read Eradication this is my AU Stell/Finnick story! For those of you who haven't read Eradication, you don't have to but this is using the same OC as that story! In this AU there are still the Districts, but no Games. This first chapter will be a narrator point of few, all the rest will be longer and in Stell's POV. Enjoy!**

**Title: **Prejudice Seas

**Summary: **"I'm sorry? What made you think I'd have a conversation with you?" her voice was sharp as she cocked her head to the side at him, a crooked grin appearing as her friends chuckled behind her. Finnick pursed his lips together, "Must be your alluring demeanor." Finnick/OC AU.

**Disclaimer: I do now own the Hunger Games, only Stell. **

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

After the war, the government of Panem had separated the land into Twelve Districts. Each one providing the country as a whole, and it's Capital, with a different resource. Luxury goods, masonry, technology, seafood, electric power, transportation, lumber, textiles, grain, livestock, agriculture, and mining products.

Each District unique in and of itself. A different geography, a different culture, a different world.

Ever since the war, the citizens of each District are prohibited from leaving the District in which they were born. The only ones who ever leave are government officials, and the peacekeepers, who all hail from District Two.

Of the twelve, this story focuses in only one. District Four. Supplier of all that comes from the sea, they ship out seafood to the rest of the Districts. The District sits on the coast of what was once known as the Pacific Ocean, and stretches up the west coastline of what was once the United States of America.

The people of Four all speak with the same, slightly rough, accent.

Their children learn the art of their industry at an early age, staying in school only until the age of eighteen. The citizens' jobs vary from deckhands, fishermen, long liners, canners, trawlers, to ship captains.

All citizens are skilled when using tools that are specialized for their work. Nets, tridents, spears. They even swim like the fish themselves.

Their diet, as expected, consists mostly of seafood. Fish prepared in numerous ways, mixed into salads and stews, or cooked and broiled as the entrée itself. Ocean foliage, such as kelp, is even cooked into their bread.

The availability of food is not as open as it appears to the outside Districts though. Strict regulations keep citizens from keeping all of a haul they catch. Government waters, so the government gets fifty percent of a haul. Violators of the law are punished accordingly; District Four's peacekeepers prefer the whipping post as the main form of punishment.

Though, the major aspect of District Four's culture is the segregation and discrimination of the two working classes. The townspeople, those who run the shops, the ship captains, the factory managers, the fishery owners, and the aquaculture dock supervisors. These are the people who have the power in Four. They have the high paying jobs, their families eating more diverse diets than others, their children going to school longer. Their homes are multi-story buildings that are never in need of repair, every family member having their own bedroom. The outside of their home built with strong vinyl siding to withstand storms.

The lower class, to those above them, is referred to as the Taig. Reversely, the Taig refer to upper class as the Pogue. It is expected throughout the District that the Taig respect the Pogue, giving them the right of way.

Those in the Pogue have mundane jobs, working as fishermen, deckhands, long liners, canners, and trawlers. Their homes are situated in the poorer parts of the District; their small homes built close together.

Usually made of cedar wood or plaster, they tend to be one or two stories high, the children sharing a bedroom. Their homes don't include a dining room, the family eating at the table in the kitchen itself. Most homes leave their windows open constantly, their shutters only closed during storms.

The people who live here are a close knit group. They are also some of the happiest, singing and dancing to the songs of their District. Music is commonly heard among the teenagers who live there. Drums, guitars, tambourines, and all sorts of instruments are made from driftwood and shells. Everyone trusts each other, they live an open lifestyle on the outside, though parents raise their children as they see fit. The use of physical punishment is a method that most have chosen to make.

The children in Four quickly learn the unwritten laws of segregation between the groups. Those of the lower class walk closer to the edge of the docks than those above them. They do not pick an argument. They do not reprimand a person above them. They give up their place in line if it's asked of them without question.

If one goes against an unwritten law, a peacekeeper will make up a violation in order to follow through with a punishment.

At school, the separation between the two is obvious. The lunch room is separated distinctly, their teacher's pair up the kids accordingly for projects. The children who's clothes may be too big for their frames, or a faded beige, that color being cheapest to afford, are picked on constantly by the children who's clothes fit them, who wear the light and airy shades of blue and green that most of the District wears.

It's a system that works; it's a segregation that few stand to protest against.


	2. God Knows I'm Not Dead

**_God Knows I'm Not Dead_**

* * *

I wake up to the sound rain hitting the wooden roof above my head. It's a sound we don't hear too often in Four, so I stay in bed for just a few moments longer, just listening to it. But I know I cannot linger for long, and open my eyes, stretching my arms above my head.

The room I share with my little brother is still dark, the sun's rays not having reached our home yet. I glance around once at the walls. The dark wood is chipping in some spots, even rotting in a few, but we don't have the money for repairs. I let out a sigh as I sit up in bed, running a hand through my blonde hair. The feeling of my calloused feet on the cold floor only serves a purpose in waking me up slightly.

I walk over to the other side of the room, a grin sliding onto my face as the head of light brown hair lets out another snore. I grab his shoulder, shaking his roughly. "Get up Cephas." My voice is groggy from sleep still, and he groans at me. He doesn't argue with me, asking for five more minutes, when I wake him anymore. He grew out of it a few years ago. Besides, this is one of the few mornings when both of us don't have to work before school. Usually I'm gone before he has to wake for school, or vice versa. Cephas sits up in bed just as I'm pulling a beige drawstring shirt over my head. Most of our shirts are drawstring, so that they can fit us for longer before we outgrow them.

"When'd you get home?" he asks, his words lethargic. I look up at him as I put my arms through the sleeves. I may be a year older than him, but at sixteen, he's already a good five inches taller than me.

"Around eleven, we didn't stay out too long." I grin and he just shakes his head at me.

I wordlessly wait for him to finish getting dressed before we both make our way downstairs, being careful to skip the third to last step. It fell through a few months ago when Cephas ran up the stairs and put too much weight on it.

We round the corner to the kitchen, wordlessly beginning to make breakfast for ourselves. Our parents left home a few hours earlier, our father working as a fisherman on one of the nearby ships, and our mother working in the cannery about half an hours walk from home.

Cephas and I eat our breakfast together in silence before putting on our boots. I only wear my boots when I go to school, preferring to be barefoot most of the time. Pogue kids sometimes wear sandals to school, though they usually regret it if they get in a fight with one of us. We're not below breaking a few toes when it comes to fighting.

We couldn't afford more than a pair of shoes even if we wanted to. Just last year, I was able to stop wearing mine without having to shove fishing net dregs to fill up the toes.

"You should tie your shirt up more." Cephas' calculated words reach me as I stand up. I raise my eyebrows at him, looking down at my shirt. I can tell by his tone he's trying not to get me mad. He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. "You should hear what they say about you Stell, if I could I'd knock'em out for it."

"What's stopping you from that?" I quip back at him, but I comply anyways, tying it up just a little more in the front. Cephas is my Achilles heel. He sends me a look, and I just raise an eyebrow at him again. "Come on, we'll be late."

I push our front door open with my shoulder, and close it once Cephas is outside. The rain has lightened up slightly from when we woke up, and now it only mists on my skin as we make our way down our sand covered street.

We don't get very far until arms wrap around my waist, lifting me up in the air as I let out a squeal. "There she is!" The golden haired boy smacks a kiss on my cheek and I punch him lightly in the arm with a laugh.

"Shut it Rip." He smirks at me, falling into step beside us.

"You love me and you know it, someday, you'll admit it."

"Nah, y'all know she likes me the most." I send a glare at Crest, who joins us alongside his brother Ebb. They're light brown hair looks black, since they were out on the docks earlier this morning. Ebb bumps his shoulder into Cephas, who shoves him back and they both laugh.

"Go feck yaself." I jest at Crest, who raises his shoulders and makes an apologetic face, his blue eyes shining.

"That's what you're for." I see Riptide's shoulders start to shake in silent laughter beside me as I stare open mouthed at Crest.

"I'd shut your mouth before I do it for ya Crest." My gaze snaps to him when I hear his methodical voice, and I leave the rest of our posse to walk quickly towards him, quickly forgetting about punching Crest. My arms find their way around him automatically as he holds me tight to his chest, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "Hey Stell." I can hear the grin in his voice and pull back to meet his hazel eyes with my own.

"Reed." His brown hair hangs over his forehead, almost covering his eyes and I push it back for him. I pull away from him fully, though his arm stays around my shoulders as we walk back to our friends.

"Where's everyone else?" Reed asks, his voice yawning.

"Fred and Fetch were still hauling in the nets when we left, said they'd meet us at school." Ebb speaks up and Reed nods.

By the time we're nearing school, our group is just as loud as usual, even while missing two. We get the usual stares from the Pogue kids and adults. They think we're too loud for the mornings, but we always ignore them. Though when one boy shoves Riptide, all he can do is send him a death glare back, moving out of his way all the same.

They always talk about me too. How I only hang out with the boys, how they call me a brasser. Some even have called me a scrubber to my face – I've gotten lashes for reefing some of them. I've learned to ignore most of them…most of the time at least. My back would tell a different story though.

Like they said, I see the two red-heads of our group leaning against a tree in the front yard of the school. Fetch and Fred are cousins, though they pass for brothers to those who don't know'em.

"Hey Steller," Fetch greets me after everyone else, clapping me on the shoulder. "You missed a dandy morning. Collins _slipped _and fell into the water." By the emphasis he puts on slipped, I get that Fetch tripped the Pogue kid to get him in the water.

"I would've loved to see that! Maybe he'll want to take another dip later this week?" I ask slyly.

"I think he'd enjoy another." Fetch's wide grin matches my own. The sound of the school bell interrupts our conversations.

Only Fetch and Crest go the same way as me, the three of us all being in the same year. Riptide, Reed, and Fred are all a year ahead of me, while Ebb and Cephas are the youngest of our group.

It won't matter too much come next year. I plan to drop out in the coming months, taking on a job aboard one of the fishing ships, to help bring in money. Cephas will most likely continue his education longer than me; it's not unusual that the oldest child of a family in our part of the District drop out early. Riptide and Reed are both discontinuing their education as well come the end of this school year.

The only kids who ever stay in school past the age of eighteen are those from the wealthy families. Right now, there are only seventeen kids like that. Most of them only come to school part time anyways.

I run a hand through my hair as Crest and Fetch fall into step on either side of me. The sounds of our footsteps are drowned out by the variety of conversations that fill the hallway of the eleventh grade sector of the school. Other kids, or groups of kids, who also live in the same part of the District as us move out of our way when they see us coming.

Our group has a radical reputation that's been pegged to us. We're the fighters, the noisy, disruptive group. Pogue kids like to call us the 'sea rats'. If they're smart, other Taig kids won't pick a fight with us, avoid us even. Pogue kids just like to pick fights.

One girl walks past me, her shoulder slamming into mine and I glare at her, my hand clenching into a fist. "Stell." Fetch warns and I let out a breath.

"What?" I snap at him, he smirks at me.

"Keep it." I purse my lips together, not going after her. I send a glance back over my shoulder, and she sends me a wave. I jerk my head to face forwards, taking longer strides towards our classroom.

* * *

"Zooplankton also include the nanoplanktonic flagellates that help keep bacteria populations under control. They are characterized by either a long tail used for swimming or by hair-like structures called cilia." I let my head fall into my hand as Ms. Fillips drones on in the front of the classroom. I shift my eyes to look at Crest, and grin when I see him facedown asleep at his desk.

"Ms. Mere!" I slowly lift my head, raising my eyebrows at Ms. Fillips.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"What's the protoplasmic net used for?" she asks me sternly.

"That's the thing dinoflagellates use to catch and eat their food right?" I ask sardonically, knowing that I'm right, "Usually if it's larger than bacteria or something?" I raise my eyebrows at her and she lets out a huff.

"Yes." She quips back at me and I grin, "that's correct. Would you mind waking Mr. Icnarus?" she adds and I smirk.

"Certainly." I look over at Crest, smiling for just a moment before taking my foot and kicking over his whole desk. He goes crashing to the floor, and the girl on the other side lets out a yelp as she shoots up to avoid being hit. "Oh, I'm sorry Cassidy, I didn't mean for him to almost fall on top of you." I say innocently and the Pogue girl glares at me.

"Fecking bastard." Crest curses as he gets to his feet, glowering at me, to which I just smile.

"Language Mr. Icnarus." Ms. Fillips barks and Crest shuts his mouth. She continues to rant about material that we've all had memorized since we were fourteen and my eyes drift out the window. You can't see the ocean from this classroom, which I've always found disappointing. You can't see the ocean from anywhere in the school actually, it's too far inland and the shops and some homes block the view.

My gaze drifts to Fetch, who continuously raises his orange eyebrows until I meet his gaze. "You work this afternoon?" he mouths the words to me and I nod curtly at him. He grins at me, giving me a thumbs up.

The sound of the bell releases us from our chairs, and I head over to Fetch before we head towards lunch with Crest being called to speak with our teacher before he can slip out the door. "I'm on longline duty tonight." I tell him aloud now.

"Not bad, I got filleting dockside, so I might see ya." He shrugs and I bark a laugh.

"You gunna retch again?"

"That was one time, I'm sorry I didn't expect a hand to fall out of it!" he tries to defend himself, but I keep laughing, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Ya don't even wanna know what I've had fall out on me." I shake my head, remembering the various body parts and countless other materials I've had fall out of fish on me while on filleting duty.

For jobs, our District likes each child to rotate in what they do in order to find what we're best at. Usually, we don't get assigned a specific job, even once we're hired on a specific boat. But that's only for Taig kids; Pogue kids usually just work in shops or offices. Though a few, like Collins for one, work on the docks themselves alongside us, or in aquaculture. The working docks are one of the few places, along with our neighborhoods themselves, that we can have an upper hand on the wealthier kids. Near our homes is easier, since the peacekeepers rarely go through there themselves, and the docks is usually fair game as long as we don't seriously injure anyone and we get our work done accordingly.

The job I have tonight, longline duty, is one of the more specified jobs. The regular longline duty itself is just hauling in the nets and collecting the fish, but I rarely do that. My job nowadays involves me diving into the water to cut free unwanted fish, turtles, dolphins, and, on rare occasions, sharks.

"Whatever." Fetch rolls his eyes and I toss my arm up and across his shoulders. I barely reach, and he grins down at me.

* * *

**Good? I'm really happy with the chapter. **

**My view on the people of Four goes with kind of an Irish feel to them, so I've used some wording in the characters speech that come from Irish phrases:**

**Brasser: prostitute**

**Scrubber: a woman of low morals**

**Reefing (Reef): to beat up someone**

**All reviews and constructive criticize are encouraged and welcomed! Finnick will be appeared/mentioned in the next chapter.**


	3. The Loneliest Places

**Crowded Hallways Are The Loneliest Places for Anyone Who Dares to be Different**

* * *

Between the social classes of District Four, the people show affection towards each other at differing degrees. Throughout the District, all of the older adults tend to keep their affections to themselves, but the differences are still there. They are most prominent within the older teenagers and young adults. The upper class is more covert: holding hands, giving a slight kiss on the cheek, an arm wrapped around someone's waist. They keep their behavior proper, under control; they're poised and well mannered.

The lower class contrasts them in every way. Open relationships in which there is no hesitation to show public affection at all. People kissing, laughing, giggling with one another. Hugs and open sexual remarks and actions are a common thing for us. Though it's common throughout the entirety of Four, the lower class is more open on the matter of sleeping with multiple people before marriage.

The upper grade school dances are one of the only places in which the shows of affection mixes together so much so that, if everyone was dressed the same, upper class kids could be mistaken for lower class.

It's a common sight then when Reed and I embrace in the school's courtyard during lunch. I press a kiss under his jaw and one of his hands run through my hair before we pull away. "How's class going?" he teases me and I just raise my eyebrows at him.

"Pointless as always." I clip and he lets out a short laugh, wrapping his arm around my waist and I bump my hip against his. We get looks from the other kids around, but ignore them, his lips pressing against the narrow bridge of my nose.

In front of us, the rest of our group is headed to sit atop the raised concrete curb that encompasses the courtyard. The upper class kids claim the middle of the courtyard, sitting under one of the only elm trees in the entire District.

Cephas, Ebb, and Fred have already gotten our lunches, today being their turn in the rotation we formed years ago. I grab a sandwich from the pile before I sit down, Reed pulling me into his side. The boys chatter on about mundane topics, the work they have been doing the past few days, and what we should do this coming Saturday night.

The weekends are all we have off; even then, we only have Saturday afternoon and Sunday. Once we start working full time, that is decreased to only Sunday.

My gaze travels around as I drown out their voices, already knowing they'll decide on the same thing we do every Saturday night. Party down on the beach just outside of the lower class towns. There're no docks there, since there are large, ragged, boulders that reach up out of the water in so many places. Though part of it is just smooth sand, an almost cove really. On the other side of the rock masses, just past a cluster of mangrove trees, the waves roar freely; crashing against the shore with more force than almost anywhere else in Four. And almost no one else except for the Taig kids go there.

My eyes lock on a face of one of the upper class girls who is a year younger than I am. Annie Cresta I've overheard is her name. She's the fishing doctor's daughter, and I met her last year after I got my foot caught in one of the fishing wire traps. It cut an inch deep incision through my foot and I had to stay off of it for two weeks. She's quiet, more so than the other upper class girls, but she's nicer than them. She treated me as if we were equals, not as though I was dirt beneath her feet and she genuinely cared about how I was doing. Or she was just so terrified of me she was nice, but I think she's just one of the few nice people left in Four.

The girl beside her catches my eyes and her face scrunches up in disgust, as though I am a slug. I send her a wry grin and her frown deepens before she looks away.

"Stell cheeked off Ms. Fillips earlier." Crest grins at me when I look over at him, my attention caught when I hear my name.

"Bitch deserves it, the lot of them do." I shrug and Cephas raises his eyebrows at me. "You'll grow to understand." I explain with a smirk. It melts into a soft smile when I feel Reed press a kiss to my neck.

"You two are ridiculous." Ebb groans and I just wink at him.

"All they did was get off with each other last night," Crest interjects.

"So?" I challenge him and he shrugs.

"Surprising considering you're a puss face."

"That's a compliment and ya know it." I sing, my voice naturally rising and falling. Lots of boys have told me it's my best feature. It draws them in, and I know it does. My father says it is like the ocean itself; beautiful and plentiful one moment, deadly and destructive the next.

"No one cares if she's a puss face Crest." Reed says, resting his chin on my shoulder.

We're not dating, not by a long shot, we're just…friends. In a way, though Cephas reminds me that I don't stay out late getting off with everyone else from our group of friends. I usually just remind him that I already have with Riptide and Crest. It never lasts for long, Reed and I have been the longest together out of the three of them. And besides, I know he goes off with Erica O'Donner some nights, he knows I know too and we don't have a problem with that. I could go out with another man as well, and he knows there is nothing he could do about it.

Our lives are too stressful to worry about little things such as chastity. Our parents do not even mind, knowing and understanding it is one of the few ways we can try to forget about everything else.

Though we still cause trouble around the District anyways.

Once the lunch bell rings again, signaling that we all need to get back for the last class of the day, we all get up and go our separate ways again.

I waste the next hour of my life starring out the window for the most part, listening to the different types of fishing that goes on out at sea. When the final bell rings, I'm one of the first out the door and stuffing my notebooks into my locker.

I'm one of the first outside, and I pause mid-step on my way over to Cephas when I hear Casey Nibark's high-pitched voice. "Come on Ann, just let me copy them down!" she's whining and when I look over, I see her with a hand around Annie Cresta's forearm. Annie shakes her head, and I understand why she does. She never cheats in school, everyone knows that about her. My eyes look to the notebook Annie holds away from Casey.

"No." she tells her and I watch Casey's grip tighten.

"Come _on_ Annie!"her voice grows harsher, "It's not a big deal at all, just give it to me!"

I'm already on my way over when Annie shakes her head again. "_No_." she says again.

"Come-" Casey doesn't finish her sentence because I roughly grab her shoulder and rip her away from Annie. She whirls around, her light green blouse flowing in the wind. Her face turns to disgust when she sees me. "Ew! What do you think you're doing!? Let go of me!" she squeals and I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Leave her alone." I say calmly, jerking my chin towards Annie and Casey snorts at me.

"You can't tell me what to do." She challenges, ripping her shoulder out of my grasp and putting her hand on her hip. I give her an incredulous look.

"I can make you." My words come out harsher, and I notice the crowd around us. I'm not supposed to be taking to her, to an upper class girl, let alone telling her what to do. She shrugs her shoulders.

"Fine, I'm done. You don't know better." She sings it slightly and I turn to walk away, I am just passing her when she opens her mouth again. "You're mom just didn't teach you manners since she doesn't love you." She says it under her breath, but I hear her anyways, I think she means for me to hear.

My elbow connects with her throat in the next moment and she crumples to the ground, her hands clutching around her throat as she struggles to get her breath back. I bring my foot up, my boot slamming straight down on her shoulder and driving her back into the ground. She does not make a sound, mostly because she does not have the air to, but her mouth opens in a soundless scream.

My hands clench into fists at my sides and I glare down at her. I hear someone start yelling in the back of my head. "She said no. So leave her alone bitch." My words are like venom when I spit them out, and I glance up at Annie, who just looks at me wide eyed.

I look up at the crowd, dozens of kids starring back at me; the Taig ones have grins on their faces. I turn on my heel and quickly walk away from the school courtyard area, grabbing Cephas's wrist as I walk past him.

"Hurry." I urge him, and I don't need to say more. Someone has most likely already alerted the peacekeepers by now, and I need to be far away when they arrive.

I just need to get Cephas home first. I glance over my shoulder, and I just see a pair of green eyes watching me go. I recognize the boy from the grade above me; he is in class with Reed and Riptide, though he is two years older. An accident of the fishing boats when he was young caused he to miss a year of school. The sun reflects off of his bronze hair and I scowl, knowing he will point the peacekeepers in the direction we are going since he is a Pogue kid.

I only have to put my hand on Cephas's shoulder to push him into a run until we reach our home.

* * *

I show up at the docks for work ten minutes before the scheduled departure. I changed quickly at home before leaving to keep myself hidden from the peacekeepers.

My work clothes differ from most other jobs in the District, since I go directly into the water itself. A Capital issued wetsuit is all I wear to work, my hair pulled up in a ponytail so that it stays out of my face.

I keep my feet bare, not only because I swim barefoot, but because I prefer not having anything on my feet regardless.

I catch sight of Ebb and Riptide, both preparing to push off from the docks on their respected work vessels, and send them both a quick wave before jogging across the planks to boat 936. I can feel my body relax as soon as I am on board, jumping on the port side of the ship, and I pat our Captain on the back as I pass him. "Evening Stell." He greets me and I look over my shoulder to give him a grin.

"Evening Macs." Boat 936 is not the one that I plan to hire at once I drop out of school, but I have worked here enough times to know all of the regular employed crew. Macs is also one of my favorite Captains, seeing as he is from the Taig as well. The owner of the boat, Mr. Spikier, is from the Pogue, but he runs the ship from his office at home, crunching numbers all day.

I have only met him once.

I head towards the aft of the ship, hauling myself up on the ladder that is bolted into one of the masts. According to the history textbooks, ships used to look differently than they do today. Now, I have the whole top of the boat practically to myself, the narrow walkways that connect the three masts all together. From each crow's nest that is located at the top, wider platforms go out.

Those are what I dive from.

It is one of the more dangerous jobs, involving hand signals, and timing in order for it to work. Our ship will pull up alongside another at the major nets that had been set out this morning, and together both crews will work to pull the nets up.

If they had spotted something, I am signaled too and I dive in when the net is halfway up.

My knife fits easily into the pocket of my wetsuit, and I lean against the solid wooden mast as we pull away from the docks, our ship letting out first a short blast and then two prolonged ones to signal our departure.

As I look back to the docks, I see the distinct white figures of two peacekeepers at the docks, and a man pointing at our ship as it pulls away.

* * *

By the time I return home, the rest of my family is already seated at the table for supper. I kiss my father's cheek quickly before heading upstairs to change my clothes and wash my hands in the washbasin I share with Cephas.

I join my family at the table wordlessly, my mother passing me the bowl of salad without as much as a smile in my direction.

"How was school?" my father's deep voice asks me.

"It was good sir." I answer in a respectful voice. From a young age, he has drilled manners into Cephas and I. "Work was fine as well, how was your day?"

"Enjoyable." He tells me and I nod. My mother, father, and Cephas all finish before me, and soon I am left to finish my dinner alone. By the time I am done and have cleaned and dried my dishes, Cephas is already in bed.

I head upstairs after saying goodnight to my father, slipping under the thin duvet.

I am almost asleep when I hear the door to our home be kicked open downstairs. Seconds later, I hear their pounding feet rushing up the stairs and the door to our bedroom is flung open. Two peacekeepers scan our room as Cephas and I both sit upright in our beds. Moments later, I am grabbed by my arm and dragged out of my own home.

I do not have to guess what has happened.

Someone has told them what I did.

And now I am going to the square.

* * *

**Cheek: Disrespectful/talk back**

**Get off with: to make out with**

**Puss face: a bad tempered person**

**Thank you all so much for the follows and favorites! All comments and criticism is greatly appreciated!**


	4. My Generation Has No Shame

**My Generation Has No Shame..I Refuse To Play The Victim**

* * *

The first time I was publically whipped I was only eleven years old. I recall every moment of the experience.

It had happened during the middle of the day, so almost everyone had stood and watched as my arms were snarled around the metal post. I remember the fear I felt while the peacekeeper read off my charges, barely pausing after asking anyone if they challenge the prosecution, before I was to be reprimanded with ten lashes.

I had taken two extra fish from the fishing area. My family was running low on food at the time, and Cephas had complained of how his stomach hurt the night before. It was barely anything, but I got myself caught, so I was punished.

You do not forget the sting of the leather whip being cracked against your skin. You do not forget that pain.

I have relived it three more times since I was eleven, and now, I get a fourth.

I stumble along as the peacekeepers drag me by my wrists through my neighborhood and towards the square. Cephas walks diligently a few paces behind us, not saying a word. I glance behind my shoulder and see my father jogging to catch up, my mother nowhere in sight.

She must have stayed at home.

I focus on picking up my feet faster in order to keep up with the men who hold me in a death grip. I feel as though my heart is lodged in my throat when we pass under the archway into the empty square.

It does not matter that it is almost midnight; I know I will be punished immediately. Under the limited number of streetlamps around the square, it gives off an eerie feel. The whipping post is barely visible.

Once my bare feet meet the cool, clean swept slate of the square, I am clogged and lurched to stand upright. The peacekeeper to my left lets go of me, moving to stand before me, and removes his helmet.

I do not recognize seeing him before.

"Steller Mere has been charged with felonious assault for the attacking of Casey Nibark." He pauses only briefly, and I can feel my father's eyes staring at the back of my skull. "She has been found guilty and will be punished accordingly with the sentence of thirty five lashes in accordance to District Four law." My body tightens at his words, "The punishment shall commence immediately." His words are harsh and I do not even have time to prepare for the force that propels me headlong towards the post.

I tighten my jaw as my shirt is ripped from my body, my torso covered only in the long cloth I wear around my breasts as a replacement for the bras my family cannot afford. My skin tightens as the cool air hits it. I am only up for a moment before I am forced to take my position.

My hands find the grips in the hollow metal pillar as they fasten the ties over my wrists. I turn my head to find my father and Cephas, who both stare upon me with sympathy in their eyes.

The sound of the whip whistles through the air, and when it slashes against my skin, I tighten my jaw to avoid crying out. I can feel exactly where the whip hit me, the stinging a sensation that courses through my whole body, and just as it fades, the whip comes down on my back again.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I arch my back in a feeble attempt to escape, and clench my eyes shut for a moment as tears spring to my eyes.

"Me ajude!" _ Help me_. The plea escapes past my lips in a rush, though I know it will do nothing. It comes out in the native language of District Four.

Ondas. All the people who grew up in the poor part of Four are fluent, including myself. Our parents make us learn it when we are five. There is an unsanctioned rule; we can only speak Ondas from the ages of five to nine, to ensure we learn.

I look to my father and brother, who can only stand by and watch.

"Seja forte minha menina" My father tells me to be strong, and a cry breaks past my lips as the whip comes down on my back again.

And once there is a crack, the rest can break through my wall. A wail that I barely even recognize as myself comes out of my mouth as the whip crosses over the same area that my skin has already been broken. When my breath comes back, it is staggered and belligerent.

I do not even notice when it is over until the ties are loosened around my wrists and I collapse to the ground. I feel myself going into shock, the sweat covering my whole body, my hands shaking. My eyes roll upwards to catch a glimpse of the peacekeepers' boots walking away. "Get the boys." I hear my father's stern, monotone command to Cephas and barely hear Cephas's footsteps tearing back towards our neighborhood.

I tense at my father's touch when he rests his hand on the back of my neck. "You need to learn Stell." He whispers, and I cannot manage a nod. The wind picks up slightly, blowing against my bare back. It arches slightly in response, and I let out a loud cry as pain courses through.

"Eu faço o que é certo" _I do what is right. _I manage the sentence out of my mouth. I hear the shouts a few moments later, and then their voices all haze together in my head.

Slowly, carefully, I am lifted off the ground and steadied on their shoulders. Riptide brought the piece of leather he keeps at home, and shoved it in my mouth. I bite down on it to avoid screaming as they move me.

I clench my eyes shut, trying to block out the agony, and everything verves into blackness.

* * *

I wake again and let out a scream as I press my forearms against a wooden surface. My back feels as though it has been lit aflame and my torso lifts upwards off the table before slamming down again. My mind connects the smell in the air to that of salt water, and I know that is what is being poured over my back.

"Shhhhh." I hear someone hush me and I clench my jaw as more is poured over. "You'll be okay." I feel a hand slip into one of mine and I clutch it as hard as I can. More water, more pain.

I have been whipped before, but it has never been this bad. The most I had gotten before was fifteen lashes. Up to that point, I was able to walk away. I could not arch or touch my back for a few days, but it was bearable. But this?

This is hell.

When I wake up again, the pain has lessened significantly. I do not recollect falling asleep, or passing out, I do not even know which one occurred.

"As the lights, shine down on the water.

And the ocean moves away, won't you stand by me forever.

Promise you'll never move away.

I just want you to know what I'm feeling.

And I feel that I shouldn't say, but we don't have time for sorrow.

So just stay with me today."

I relax at the sound of his voice, a sigh escaping my mouth and he stops singing. "Stell?" the hand in mine squeezes gently, and I return it. I open my eyes slowly, and see Reed sitting in the chair beside me. He manages a grin, "Good morning, you slept all day after you went under the third time." He lets out a soft laugh, "It took us ten minutes to convince the doctor to have you in. Annie, the girl you stood up for, she came down and explained what happened at school. I'm bloody surprised he let us in though." I can only hum in agreement, afraid that if I speak, I'll hurt myself more somehow. "Ya back looks brutal." He tells me and I snort, my eyes drooping.

Reed stands, his hand slipping out of mine. "I should go tell the doctor you're awake," he turns, taking a few steps away before stopping and looking at me over his shoulder. "Your mother came by while you were out," he pauses, and I am surprised at the information. She never comes to see Cephas and I when we are hurt, or tends to us at all. "You're father's still out on the water, so I told her to lay off."

"Obrigado" _Thank you_. I tell him in Ordnas. The words slur together more naturally given the District's accent, so it does not hurt to speak. Reed nods before he turns, disappearing behind the corner. I try to relax while he is gone, searching my surroundings from where I lay on one of the examination tables.

I was in this room before, when I cut my foot last year, but only for an hour or so. It is strange to look at the floors and not see any sand on them, I cannot find a speck, and I suspect Reed had to wipe his feet off before coming inside.

I catch sight of the time on a clock that hangs above the doorway. Just past ten in the morning. Reed should be at school, but I suspect he is skipping.

My eyes drift back to the doorway as two figures appear. Reed walks towards me first, pushing a piece of my blonde hair behind my ear. "On a scale to one to ten, how's the pain?" My eyes find Mr. Cresta.

He holds a clipboard in his hand and does not look at me when he speaks. "Seven." I say in a monotone voice and he just hums, writing it down.

"I'd like to thank you for helping Annie," he tells me, still not looking up.

"You won't drop dead just from looking at me." My words lack the harshness they usually have, and I cringe when my back expands slightly. Though it does the trick and his eyes meet mine. He nods his head.

"Sorry." I can tell by his tone he does not mean his words. "We'll have to wash out your wounds with salt water again in a few hours, and then I'll bandage you around your torso. The bandages should be changed twice a day for the next week. You will stay here for three more days before going home. The school has been notified, as has your work." I close my eyes as he speaks.

Three days is too many. "Sir, I can't miss three days."

"Moving excessively would cause the lacerations to reopen and then we'd run the risk of infection." He tells me coolly.

"Sir, I _can't _miss three days." I plead, thinking of the nearly empty cupboards in the kitchen at home. Three days' pay puts food on the table for two. I feel a hand on my arm and look at Reed.

"Vamos pensar em alguma coisa." _We'll figure something out_, he tells me, and it's the look in his eyes that makes me nod.

"Okay." The doctor looks between us both with narrowed eyes, and I realize that he does not speak Ordnas. "I'll stay." I clarify for him and he nods, writing down more on his piece of paper.

* * *

"Where the light shivers offshore  
Through the tides of oceans  
We are shining in the rising sun

As we are floating in the blue  
I am softly watching you  
Oh boy your eyes betray what burns inside you" I sing softly, my fingertips tapping a beat on the leg post of the table I lie on.

"Whatever I feel for you  
You only seem to care about you  
Is there any chance you could see me too?  
Cause I love you  
Is there anything-" I stop when I hear a louder knock on the doorframe.

My eyes snap up and I see Annie standing in the doorway. "Hi," her voice is soft, and shakes slightly, "I um, I, you're a really nice singer." She stampers through her sentence and I send her a crooked grin.

"Thanks Annie." I tell her and she smiles softly, walking into the room more.

"I just, wanted to thank you. And say I'm sorry." She says, wringing her hands together in front of her. "You didn't have to do that for me."

"People deserve to be treated well." I say simply, "And listened too. If I can't get that, then I figure some nice people should at least." I don't understand why Annie's smile grows wider.

"If you want, I could bring you your schoolwork, and help you with it." She offers, and if I could, I would shake my head.

"No thanks, I never do it anyways." At the sound of footsteps, Annie looks over her shoulder.

My jaw clenches as I recognize the bronze hair that I last saw leaving the school. It contrasts against his tan skin, and curls slightly at the ends in the front. But he is the same boy, and though I'm not sure if he turned me in, I know he saw me. "This is my cousin," Annie introduces me, though I just glare at him. "Fi-"

"I don't give a feck what his bloody name is, he has to get out of my sight now."

* * *

**End chapter three! Thank you to all who have favorited and followed! And our one reviewer **_**x-moon-surfer-x**_**!**

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**I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Nor do I own the song 'I Love You' by Woodkid which Stell was singing in this chapter. **


	5. Start Acting Like a Lady

**Hide Your Crazy and Start Acting Like a Lady**

* * *

There are a countless number of mundane jobs down at the docks in District Four. Sorting the fish off the boats, filleting smaller fish by hand, sharpening the gaff hooks, braiding more fishing line, or tying the lines to the lures for the next fleet of boats that are set to ship out. Though out of them all, only a few are jobs in which a person's back would have limited movement.

After three days of limited movement, only being allowed off of the table to go to the bathroom, I am allowed to stand by myself and return home.

I returned home yesterday, Cephas walking me home as we kept our heads down, away from the prying eyes of others who gaped openly at the long red marks that formed a lattice pattern across my exposed back.

I still cannot wear a shirt without the fabric sticking into my wounds. I skip school for the day, knowing I am not expected to return until next week, and make my way down to the docks. It is early still, some of the earliest fishing rigs still being inland.

The dogs have not even left yet.

The fishing boats that are out all day usually take dogs with them. They are good swimmers and workers, helping to retrieve equipment that falls overboard, or a buoy if it gets loose.

They were bred to work as water dogs. Their dense fur keeps them warm even in the winters, when the ocean water gets to around forty degrees. Webbed paws, much like our hands, help them to swim in the currents. Those who live in the wealthy part of Four own the dogs for the most part, though there are a few who live in my neighborhood.

They have always been my favorite, because dogs do not judge you for where you were born.

A pack of three bound up to me as I approach the main dock office, and a grin slips onto my face as I pet them all atop their heads, being careful not to bend down. My fingers seem to disappear into the dense beige fur. The dog's tongue lolls out of his mouth, earning a short chuckle from me. At the sound of a sharp whistle, my head, along with the dogs', snaps up. An upper class fisherman glares at me, letting out another sharp whistle and his dogs race off towards him. He ushers them aboard his ship, sending me one more callous glance before he turns away.

I push the door open to the office gently, walking up to the main desk. I stare at the blackboard that hangs on the wall opposite me, practically taking up the entire side of the building. Assignments, bell schedules, and monthly quotas fill up almost every inch of space.

"Stell!" I look over as a deep voice calls my name. Heron Piker works part time in the docks office, going over daily job assignments and quotas. He is one of the largest men in the Taig, though his persona doesn't match it in the least. He reminds me of a playful dolphin.

I grin up at him, his green eyes shining. "I need work, until I can use my back again." I tell him shortly. He nods, leaning on the desk beside me as he stares up at the board. As he looks for me, my gaze drifts outside, looking out over the workers who file in, boarding their ships, preparing to set sail across the clear ocean.

I let out a snort when I see Finnick climbing aboard one of the larger vessels. I have not seen him since I cursed him out of the room a few days ago while I was still at the Cresta's. Though Annie had tried to tell me, numerous times, that he really is nice, before I finally snapped and told her I did not care.

"He's a nice lad." I turn my eyes towards Heron, who grins. "Odair." He nods his head out the window and I raise an eyebrow.

"Odair?" I ask confused.

"Finnick." He explains and I shake my head, "He's a darling boy. Real preener though." I raise my eyebrows further and he shakes his head. "Anyways, ya can help with tying the hooks onto the lines today, shouldn't be too hard. All triple knots for each one, make sure they're not loose. Just tell'em I sent ya down." I nod my head, thanking him before I walk out of the office building.

The main area where the hooks and lines are tied together sits underneath a large shade sail at the end of dock 'e'. Rows of tables are set up here, and the people work simply and quickly, tying the hooks to the fishing line before they are put into the buckets to be put on the ships that are set to go out later today.

Some hooks and wire are less quality than others, so those go to the poorer fishing vessels. I make my way over slowly, carefully not to swing my arms and disrupt my back. My bare feet slap softly against the wooden boards that make up the dock.

My eyes drift over and I watch as Finnick pulls on one of the sail ropes, hoisting one of the masts up into the air. He shouts to other men on board, pointing around, and I realize that he is commanding them. Giving orders, telling them what to do.

I shake my head, of course he is, and all the Pogue do is order others around. I check in with the overseer, relaying the message to him that I have been given a job here for the rest of the week.

He does not try to cover the disgust in his voice as he speaks to me. "You'll be working at table twenty seven. Two, seven." He holds up with his fingers to show me how many two and seven are. To avoid snapping at him, I look down at my bare feet.

"Thank you." The words come out bitter, and I turn silently, my hands clenched into fists as I make my way over to the designated work area. Each table can be worked on by two people at once, and someone else is already there. In all, in this expanse of the docks, one hundred and ten tables are set up in order to keep pace with the lines that are used on all of the ships.

I nod my head to the girl who already stands at the table. She's from the Taig as well, I can tell by her clothes and lack of footwear. She gives me a small smile, and I hear her intake of breath when I turn and she catches sight of my tattered back. "Three days ago." I answer the question she is too polite to ask.

"Huh," is all she says, offering me no condolences, and I don't want any. "The line is in that bin," she tells me, pointing to the barrel full of fishing wire to my right, "The hooks there." Another, shallower barrel sits atop the table to my right. I pick up a piece of the line carefully, minimizing the movement in my back, and run my thumb and index finger over it.

This line is for the subordinate vessels. It is thinner, and lacks the coating that is used on the other types of line that strengthens it, preventing it from snapping should a larger fish catch hold. I grab one of the hooks, my hands automatically starting the complex knot that I learned how to do with ease ages ago.

My hand motions are sloppier than usual, as I avoid moving my shoulders while I work. "What's your name?" the girl next to me asks after thirty minutes.

"Stell Mere." I answer, "Yours?"

"Lily Iboyla. Your friends with Riptide Aedre aren't you?" she asks and I look up from tying, stabbing my finger with the hook. My mouth sets into a line for a moment before I answer.

"Ya, you know him?" She nods. I glance down at my finger, seeing only a small speck of blood. My fingers calloused years ago so that I usually do not break the skin with such a little incision of a hook end.

"Our fathers work on the same ship." She explains, I hum in response and look back to the hook and line, finishing the knot and taking a new hook and line.

"How old are you?" I ask, making conversation.

"Twenty two." She answers, "You?"

"Seventeen."

Lily and I talk sporadically to one another for the rest of the first work shift. I loosen up to her the more we talk, and my speech becomes less formal, the obligatory voice that I use at home and with those who I am forced to respect disappears, replaced by my usual beguiling voice and colorful vocabulary.

When the lunch whistle sounds from the main office, we're laughing as we make our way down the dock together towards the shore. "It was fecking ridiculous, he was a dry shite." Lily barks out a laugh and I roll my eyes at the memory.

"You shouldn't have just leave'em by himself."

"He knew where'e was, he can figure out where his own damn house is." She shrugs at me. "It's true." I defend myself lazily and she just shakes her head.

"Okay. I'll see ya in an hour." She raises a hand in a goodbye. I nod my head. She heads off in the direction of the meager part of Four, and I turn to walk towards the beach. Where the docks end and the waves beat against the sand.

My back aches from being straight for hours, and partially from the few times I forgot and moved it outright.

I wade into the water slowly, the waves virtually nonexistent here since the docks blockade them from forming. A few hundred yards down, I can see where the waves do form, rising up before they crest and crash, the white foam rushing up shore.

I grin as the water causes my pants to stick to my legs, and I wade in deeper. It's warm on my bare torso, and I let out a sigh as it cleanses the marks on my back. I turn and lift my feet off of the sand, letting myself float on my back, rocking gently back in forth as the slight waves roll underneath me.

I close my eyes, seeing red as the sun shines down on me. My ears tune into the sounds I can hear in the water. Mostly propellers of some of the fishing vessels that run on motors off in the distance are all I hear. The cries of the seagulls grow louder as more ships come to dock to drop off their morning catch, and I can hear them even in the water. Their feet hitting the surface as they land.

I bring my feet back to the sand, the water hitting underneath the cloth wrapped around my breasts. I can walk normally through the water, the warmth taking away the pain of the movement until I get back to shore.

Twisting my hair to squeeze out the seawater, I walk towards the pier, already knowing that we do not have enough food at home for me to have a lunch today.

* * *

The next week, I return to school, even being able to wear a shirt again. I have yet to return to my regular job, and spend my afternoons after school repairing the fishing nets. Since my work time has been cut back, our family has less to eat at night. I give what I can to Cephas, but my father started to catch on a few nights ago and I was told to stop.

Our mother did not care. She never cares.

I glance at her now, as I sit in our living room. It's Saturday, so we do not have school, and father is out at sea. Mother doesn't work on the weekends; the cannery is closed both days.

She acts as though I do not exist, like she always does, humming to herself as she ties rope together. I think she's making another skirt or shirt. Most families do here; we use the old, thinner ropes to make extra clothes. Though I do not have the patience for it, if you do not tie them rope tight enough, your clothes will come undone while you wear them.

"I'm thinking it over. The way you make me feel all sexy but it's causing me shame. I wanna lean on your shoulder. I wish I was in love but I don't wanna cause any pain. And if I'm feeling like I'm evil, we've got nothing to gain." I sing softly to myself as I stare out the window. The wind blows through from outside, causing the sand on our living room floor to blow further inside.

"Steller." I look over at my mother's callous voice, raising an eyebrow. "Sit up straight." Her blonde hair hangs over one shoulder, and her brown eyes glint in the sunlight that comes inside. The only thing we share is our hair color, once she told me hers was the exact same brilliant color.

I do as she says though, sitting up more and pulling my feet up onto the dull gray couch I sit on. We've had it ever since I was born, and the cushions have sags where we sit them from being so old. I glance at her again, though look away quickly, knowing what she'll say if she catches me.

Staring is not polite.

It is no secret that my mother lacks in giving Cephas and me the love that all mothers give their children. Using the word 'lacks' to describe it is being generous. Everyone knows she does not love us. Even our father.

She never wanted children. Ivory Mere has always wanted to be a part of the wealthier part of District Four. But she is not, and that cannot change. I think she was embarrassed that if she had kids, they would be like Cephas and I. Poor, dirty kids who cause trouble and have to drop out of school in order to have enough money to survive.

Though she met my father, fell in love and married him. He always wanted children, though never told her. I was a mistake, a fact that she reminded me of often up until I was thirteen. When she saw how much joy my father got from me, she agreed to another kid, to Cephas.

It's like her worst nightmare. And to cope with it, she just ignores us, only teaching us manners and proper etiquette; as though that's the only way we will ever be like the richer kids. We are our father's children.

I doubt she would do anything even if I was trapped in a burning building.

I hear a shout go up outside, it pierces through the air, and I recognize it right away. "I'm going out." I say stoically as I stand up. I do not get any response from her, so I just leave. Cephas would normally come with me, but he already left a few hours ago when Ebb came by.

Once the door is shut behind me, I go off at a brisk jog. I cannot run full out yet, I learned that the hard way a few days ago. I see them as I round the corner of the drug store. It is one of the only shops we have in the middle of the Taig.

"Hey!" I callout and the figure at the front of the group stops instantly. I grin when Reed starts to jog back towards me. "You going to ditch me or something?" I ask with a smirk before he presses a kiss to my lips quickly, his hand grazing fleetingly over my neck.

"Didn't know if you were cleared yet." He says in a fake professional tone and I bark a laugh, "We let you know where we were anyways."

"Yeah thanks for that, it's just me and my mother there." We join the rest of the guys. Riptide, Fetch, and Crest all walk together.

"It's a bonfire tonight." Fetch grins over his shoulder at me, "Some other kids are gunna be there too." I grin as we all walk together, towards the rocky shores. To get there we have to pass through a section of the Pogue.

There are so many of us together, and the boys are so big, that not many physically dare to do something about our 'disrespect' as we walk through the streets.

I'm at the front of the group by the time we're almost out of town, the cliffs visible just a few hundred yards away. Fetch does a humorous impression while insulting our school principle, and I bark out a laugh, rolling my eyes upwards towards the sun.

When I look back forwards, I see Finnick coming out of one of the shops. I look to Riptide with a grin, "Are the Wallaces going to be here?" I ask and his smirk is enough to tell me they are. "Good, Vadim owes me." Riptide shakes his head at me, grinning.

"Hey, Stell!" I hear Finnick's voice. The rules that our society have dictated but not written, say I should stop right away. I should stop, leave my friends, and go ask him what he wants. I should listen, and I should do what he tells me.

But I ignore him, not even glancing in his direction as we walk past.

* * *

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* * *

**Songs:**

**Waiting Game by Banks**

**Mama's Broken Heart by Miranda Lambert**


	6. That There's Something Else

**Hoping With All Their Might, That There's Something Else**

* * *

Music has always been a way for people to escape from the reality that is their own lives. It gives someone a release, if only for a moment, from the pressures that they constantly face each day. Pressures that begin the moment their mind slips into consciousness every morning. If you let it, it can warp your mind and your thoughts until the point where you can lie to yourself and say that everything is going to be okay.

You can forget that you don't have a job.

You can forget your family is running out of food.

You can forget that you don't know what to do anymore.

Not completely, but you can for a little while at least.

I have always thought that that is the reason we have these get togethers on this isolated beach. Out where no wealthy citizen will find us. Where no adult will come. Just as a way for us all to get away. Here. We can just be kids.

I let out a laugh as I watch Fetch and Reed race towards the ocean waves, both of them diving simultaneously once they get there, disappearing underneath the water just before the wave crests and crashes to the shore. I walk closer to the fire that has been built up in the middle of the beach, where more kids my age sit.

Some bang on homemade drums, while others string guitars. All these instruments they've made using leftover rope, ripped sails, and washed up driftwood from around the District. Most of the kids here are only clad in their cutoff pants, made from the fishing pants found in the dumpsters; we cut them off at the knee, giving us pants we can wear when we're not working. Though the girls are dressed much like I am, only in the material we use as a standby for bras we cannot afford, or in a loose drawstring shirt.

This is one of the only places I really talk to other girls my age.

I sit down on one of the logs that are placed around the fire, and the blonde haired boy next to me slings his arm around my shoulders. I feel him lean back to look at my back and he lets out a low whistle. "I heard ya got yerself into some trouble, way t'go." I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and give him a grin.

"Can't go off winning best citizen in all of Four, can I now Ryder?" I ask him sarcastically and he pulls me closer to his tanned skin. He lets out a laugh, and my face contorts slightly at the reek. "How long have ya even been here?"

"Ahh, like, thirty minutes." He slurs and I shrug.

Getting alcohol in District Four is like taking food from a baby. If you know the right people, you can get it free. Or make your own if you learn how to. So it's always a major part of these revelries as well.

"Good for you." I tell him and he smiles, a crooked smile that only shows some of his teeth, but it lets you know that it's only for you. It's something that not even Reed's smile can pull off.

His grin turns into an open soft laugh, and I rest my forehead on his cool shoulder. I can smell the sea salt on him still, and I can feel the water droplets where our skin connects. He must have gone swimming a few minutes ago.

With my eyes closed, I focus on the beat of the drums, the stringing of the guitars, and I smile to myself. It grows wider when I feel his warm breath by my ear. "Who you going home with tonight?"

I lift my head off of him, looking up at him and smirk. "No one, not tonight." I tell him and his grin fades, though he does pass me a glass bottle filled with an amber liquid.

"It was so fun last time." He whines. His breath reeks and I take a gulp from the bottle, passing it to the boy on the log beside ours. Take a gulp, pass it around. That's how it works out here.

"Some other time." I tell Ryder, who just gives me one of his grins. He leans back, resting his hands in the sand behind us. I let out a small laugh, looking down at him now in his inclined position.

I give his bare stomach a pat, smirking as a shiver visibly runs through his body, before standing up. "Cassie!" At the sound of her name, the tall red-haired girl turns around.

"Well if it isn't the girl who got'erself whipped again." She slurs. I just shake my head at the older girl, who throws her arm around my shoulders, shoving a bottle into my hand.

"I'm just doing the right thing." I defend myself and she lets out a snort.

"When are you gunna learn that it's about doing the expected thing, not the right thing." I cringe slightly as the alcohol burns my throat on its way down.

"Never." I snap and she laughs. "How long you been here?"

"Long enough."

* * *

I can practically feel the music in my bones. It fills up my soul, and it spreads the smile across my face.

"Oh all the money that e'er I spent  
I spent it in good company  
And all the harm that e'er I've done"

My voice carries out and to me; it's the only thing I listen to. Blending with the music that my friends play around me. I stare through the flames of the growing fire, seeing Crest sling his arm around some girl's shoulders. Cassie closes her eyes, leaning forwards toward the flames, her red hair seeming to come alive.

"Alas, it was to none but me  
And all I've done for want of wit  
To memory now I can't recall"

My voice carries through the air, and I turn my head, feeling as though I'm in a whirlwind and looking out over the ocean.

"So fill to me the parting glass  
Good night and joy be with you all."

A hand on the side of my face, warm, inviting.

Vadim. His steel blue eyes look into my own and he smiles. His voice joins my own, rising through for all to hear.

"Oh all the comrades that e'er I've had  
Are sorry for my going away  
And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had  
Would wish me one more day to stay"

My mind wanders as the words leave my mouth, and I wonder what it must seem like: a horde of poor children, all drunk, sitting on a deserted beach singing around a fire.

"But since it falls unto my lot  
That I should rise and you should not  
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call  
Good night and joy be with you all."

The music fades, and we all sit in silence, listening to the wave's crash on the sand. The roar of the ocean, of the power greater than us all. A hand slips into mine, and I look over and see Reed. He tilts his head backwards slightly.

"Good night and joy be with you all." He mumbles the words, but he earns a smile from me and I let him pull me to my feet.

I stumble into his chest, which is still wet with seawater. I hum the tune of the song as I let him pull me along, his hand firmly holding mine. We don't go towards town though, Reed leads me towards the rocks.

Even though my mind floats in the air around me, I easily navigate my way on the rocks. My calloused feet fit into the crevices and pass over the cracks between. I am vaguely aware of a dull pain throughout my back, but it does not hurt as much, the alcohol numbing the pain.

We stop before we hit the slippery rocks, still knowing that even sober it is hard to navigate and keep your balance. I sit down, my legs in front of me, and watch as the water ricochets off the cliffs, Reed's hand fitting in mine easily.

* * *

Sundays are the most laid back day of the week in District Four. Everything's closed, as far as the fishing industry and local shops go, so we are allowed to do as we please.

It is also the one morning when people can sleep in. Though by the time I roll out of my bed, well past sunrise, the rest of my family is already awake. Cephas's bed across the room empty, the sheets already pulled back into place.

Deep laughter echoes from downstairs, and a grin finds its way onto my face as I pull a shirt over my head. I pull on my shorts afterwards. With summer approaching in the next few months, the temperature is rising again.

Downstairs, I find my father sitting around the table with a group of his friends. The men who he grew up with himself, much like how Cephas and I grow up now with our own group. I have known them my whole life, been watched by most growing up.

"Steller!" Gavin Bomont smiles when I walk into the kitchen, standing up from his chair to envelope me in a hug. "You've grown each time I see you!" he follows the exclamation with his booming laughter. For a man on the skinny side, his laugh is surprising to those who do not already know it.

"You see me each Sunday Mr. Bomont, and you say that every time." I point out and he rolls his eyes, ruffling my hair before sitting back down. I send a nod to the other men around the table; including both Crest's father and Ebb's father.

They go back to their nostalgic stories of their own childhoods, and I scour the cabinets for some sort of a breakfast. I always enjoy listening in on their stories, hearing of how similar we all are in this poor section of the District. We may not have as much as the Pogue does, but we do have more joy than them.

When we were little, Cephas and I would sit on the floor just to listen to the stories, though as we grew older, they became repeated. They are still nice to hear, a form of entertainment we only have available once a week, though we usually go out more often nowadays.

I hold back a laugh as I think back to a few months prior, when Crest and I came downstairs together, forgetting about the Sunday gatherings. Crest's father had given it out to him right in our kitchen about how he should never lie to his parents. If he came over to get off with me, just tell'em and it would be fine. Like most parents around, they do not stand for hard necking.

I find a netted bag holding three bread rolls. They're old, but all that I can find at the moment, so I take one before starting towards the door. My hand in on the handle when I hear my father's voice. "Stell."

"Yes sir?" I ask, turning around to face him.

"How's your back?" he's concerned, he always is.

"It's doing better, I can move now." he nods, satisfied with my answer.

"Be back by midnight." He tells me, and I nod my head.

"Yes sir." He gives me a smile that I return before going outside. The humid ocean air seems to stick to my skin and I turn towards the direction of the docks.

I bite into the roll, tasting the seaweed that is baked in. Even if it's old, it's still food. I find myself humming the songs that we played last night, my pace increasing as I hear the sound of the waves. Hazy images of people dancing together, laughing, voices singing, fill my mind. Me yelling at Vadim for ditching me a few weeks ago.

Cassie and Brooks sneaking away from the firelight together. Stumbling upstairs to find Cephas still awake, sitting up in his bed.

I catch sight of my brother now, his hair standing out as he runs along the shoreline alongside Riptide. I hear his shout as Ebb shoves him, flipping him off directly afterwards.

As I continue towards them, I pass an older Pogue woman walking with her son. They walk towards me on their way closer to the main part of town. As we pass, she yanks her son further away from me. I step down, moving so that they can continue straight as we go. Even though I comply with the unwritten rules, the woman still glares at me the whole time they pass me. Her son even sneers at me, narrowing his young eyes at my ragged clothes.

The boys do not notice me until after I've sat down in the sand. I bury my hands down, having finished my breakfast quickly, and focus on the heat that surrounds them, trapped within the grains of sand.

Riptide sends me a wave, Ebb and Crest a grin, and I just raise my hand up in acknowledgement as they continue their game, tossing around a ball they have woven. I watch them for hours, just basking in the sun like the seals I was named after.

My father always found them fascinating, how they could move so gracefully through the water. Amazed at their sheer size and power, so he named me after them. They are ugly things, friendly albeit.

I turn my face away from the setting sun, and my brow furrows when I catch sight of the posse that saunters down the beach. It's a group of Pogue kids, and most of them I recognize from the upper years of school.

"Rip!" I shout out towards the water and his gaze lands on me within seconds. I incline my head, to which he follows with his eyes. It only takes him moments to get the rest of the boys in order, and then they are walking back up the beach towards me.

Fetch offers me a hand when they reach me, and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. Sand sticks to my hamstrings, though with a gentle swipe of their hand, one of the boys wipes it off. I look back at Crest, and he winks.

I look away with a roll of my eyes, back towards the Pogue group, who are closer now, they straighten up when they see us, one of them locking eyes with me. It's a challenge that I know well.

Though with my back injured so recently, it's a fight we cannot afford to take right now. All the boys know this, so we do not have to say any words among us all before walking back towards the streets.

Crest, Riptide, and I all walk abreast as we make our way through the richer part of town towards our homes. Fetch, Ebb, and Cephas walk in a pack behind us. I can feel the hatred in my veins at how we're treated, how we surrender like beaten dogs to those higher than us, but I cannot do anything about it. I let out a breath through my nose, running a hand through my hair.

"Stell!" I hear his voice again, and it only builds to my anger. So I don't just keep walking, I stop, turning sharply to face the bronze haired boy and spit my words at him.

"I'm sorry? What made you think I'd have a conversation with you?" My voice is sharp and I cock my head to the side, my hand going on my hip. I hear Ebb and Cephas let out chuckles behind me as Riptide slings his arm around my shoulders. I can see him raising his eyebrows without even looking at him. It's how he challenges people. Finnick purses his lips together, taking a step closer towards me.

"Must be your alluring demeanor."

* * *

**I'm so sorry this has taken so long! I went to visit colleges in Kentucky and then I got a concussion from my horse last week, I'm not even cleared fully yet, but I'll try to update faster! **


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